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Tuesday, 02 December, 2008

PLANETNOTION TELEVISION!

CAMERA-FOLK AND FILM EDITORS WANTED!

Planet Notion is looking for guys and dolls to film and edit features for its new TV channel, PNTV. Accompanying Notion to artist interviews, gigs, fashion shows, festivals and international events, you will be skilled, passionate and full of ideas about how to produce shit-hot video content. Camera-folk will be experienced and ideally have their own equipment, or at least access to equipment, while editors must be able to turn projects around quickly, and with stylistic flare. If you can both film and edit content, we would especially like to hear from you! These casual, unpaid positions would be ideal for those looking to develop their showreels, and to get the chance to travel, film major artists and top events.

Please email lucy(at)musichqmedia
(dot)com if you’re interested in getting involved, cheers!

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The Courteeners w/s from Lead Balloons

The Courteeners w/s from Lead Balloons

The Courteeners plus Lead Balloons @ Academy, Manchester Ah… The Courteeners: Live! Proof if proof need be that Manchester has firmly brandished its sword and sliced Sheffield from its crown as the new music capital of the UK. Lead Balloons were the first band to perform from a city still in mourning over Vera Duckworth’s passing to the great bingo hall in the sky, and went some way to cheering the Mancunian masses of their loss. The four-piece support act grew out of singer/song writer Pierre Hall’s ability to pen expanding, layered pop songs, far too big for one lowly soldier to carry-out alone. Attention is fixed on the red headbands, sported by two of the band members, and the songs that build around the elastic and striking conjoined vocals of Hall and Craig Marchington. The latter, low key character, manages to produce bounding bass-lines that add versatility and vim to proceedings. At times they conjure an impact akin to The Proclaimers, singing into a megaphone, and backed by the haunting-beat of Joy Division. Forthcoming debut single, ‘Somethin’ You Say’ draws out Hall’s subtler-song building; a hint of desperation unleashed through pleadingly delivered lyrics. Percussionist, Scott Jackson, switches the pace and tempo with adroitness between songs, putting in the effort of a marathon runner wearing concrete shoes. An ever growing mass of new music-spotters emit a glowing range of enthusiastic responses upon Hall and Co’s stage exit. If this performance is anything to go by, watch this space. Swaggering into view, beer in hand, oozing the now-famed Madchester cockiness, The Courteeners take to the stage. Frontman, Liam Fray, assuredly acknowledges the crowd before firing off into the opener; help at hand in the dominating, shuddering percussion drills of Michael Campbell. Beer fills air; the bands energy matched blow to blow by the expectant and excitable crowd, appreciative that the band are living up to their boisterous, crowd cajoling live reputation. The cocky stomp of ‘Aftershow’ has each word sent back from the masses with relish; ‘classic’ written all over it with a thick-black marker. Giving a glimpse as to how their March-due debut album may take shape, The Courteeners mould together Jamie-T style vocal poetry, instrumental Stone Roses breaks, and droplets of The Smiths; especially in the lyrical snap and cocky self-assurance of frontman Fray. The yet unreleased album is already being penciled in for Mercury Prize glory; which goes some way to assessing how full-frontal the band are live. Current B-side ‘Slow Down’ represents the more adventurous nature of the new pretenders, with an essence of dub-funk about it. The exit of all band members but Fray and his guitar, brings the euphoria down to an intimate level, the mood of the masses drastically changing. The stunning ‘An Ex Is An Ex For A Reason’ is the smoothest vocal performance Fray puts in, and the frontman has an air of striking dignity about him whilst performing it. It doesn’t take the remainder of the band long to pick up the pace and energy on their return though; the crowd throbbing like a virgin’s cock in a brothel. The introductory snippet to previous single ‘Acrylic,’ a tune that introduced the lads to many in attendance tonight: “You’re just like plasticine, molded into a libertine dream,” brings out jigging spasms in all and sundry, summing up the mystique and punch that Fray and friends stand for. Given that the bulk of 2008 will be spent on the road, the commanding front man takes time to lay down a few ground rules. He berates an exuberant fan for pushing others; threatening to walk off stage if he continues in this disrespectful display. ‘What Took You So Long?’ provides the fiery finale and extends the onstage time to an hour. The Courteeners appear more than ready for the big year that lies ahead of them. The next big thing? Maybe… just maybe. Words: Dave Adair

tags: | the courteeners | more...

Camden Crawl

Camden Crawl, London At times, wandering through Camden on weekend afternoons can resemble a trip to an indie-Disneyland. Streets are overflowing with suburban youths wearing their tribal colours, groups of tourists walk along gawping and dealers hang out on the bridge trying to con students out of their money for bags of oregano. Shops and stalls trade in amazingly unwitty t-shirts and unpleasant food. If during the day it can be irritating, then at night try just downright unnerving. But the bottom line is that Camden is perhaps London’s musical heartbeat. This is where the young bands cut their teeth, this is where the kids create the buzz around them and this is where all self-respecting music fans come to check it all out. However, repeated visits to Camden to see the next ‘next big thing’ could get draining. How often can a person with even a modicum of regard for their own hygiene and safety return to Camden before they eventually flip out and head off out to Surrey in order to live in a hermetically sealed anti-bacterial box? As much as the organisers of Camden Crawl would have you believe that the whole thing is a showcase for new bands and a celebration of live music, there’s still the sneaking suspicion that it’s really about reducing the need for extended and prolonged exposure to Camden. After the umbrage taken due to the excessive queuing that many people had to endure last year, the Crawl was extended to a second day to give people the chance to see all the bands. However, problems arose when it turned out to be two of the most beautiful days London has seen all year. People weren’t surviving in Camden, they were actually enjoying it. People jacked in queuing for gigs in favour of sitting by the lock sipping cold beers, or making new friends in old drinking dens like The Good Mixer and Tommy Flynn’s. Camden was in danger of looking like a place that you wouldn’t actually mind hanging out in. Still, Amy Winehouse in the back room of the Dublin Castle had over-eager punters keeping the queue, as did The Charlatans and Travis at Koko. However, the real treats were to be discovered in the quieter corners of the Crawl route with incendiary sets from bands like upcoming Oxford outfit Foals. Call it math rock, call it the work of the devil, either way they had a crowd in The Underworld indulging in some stage-invading and truly awful dancing at 4 in the afternoon, which is surely the Crawl’s real magic. If Foals were the underground darlings then a brief glimpse of what is destined to be one of this year’s breakthrough acts could be seen at the Electric Ballroom in the form of Air Traffic. Ash may have been headlining but after the epic theatrics of these young rockers, there was no doubt that an exciting new prospect had arrived. A quick stumble from there to The Enterprise revealed perhaps the biggest treat of all. In a small and sweltering room before a densely packed crowd, Birmingham’s singer-songwriter extraordinaire Scott Matthews played an acoustic set accompanied only by a cellist. Working his way through a repertoire of some of the most delicate and breathtaking pieces of music to come out of this country in recent years, it was little wonder that his attempts to leave the stage were blocked and the poor chap was forced to play a total of three encores. As memorable as all of this was, it collectively paled into insignificance when compared to what happened to Camden over that 48 hours. A breeding ground for this country’s finest and most innovative music, undoubtedly, but a place of friendliness and charm? If the Crawl manages to land such fine weather next year and thus bring out everyone’s more affable traits, the place may actually be known for something other than its music. At a time when numerous music venues in the capital are being closed, it’s a wonderful sight to see the cross-section of Londoners that make the city’s live scene as marvellous as it is uniting for two days of indulgence. If the developers and city planners were to see days like this, perhaps they wouldn’t be quite so keen to start erecting even more empty office blocks. After all, without the joy of Camden during the Crawl, what the hell would be the point of living in London anyway?

tags: | camden crawl | more...

Bloc Weekend in Pontins, Great Yarmouth

Bloc Weekend in Pontins, Great Yarmouth

Bloc Weekend Pontins, Great Yarmouth There’s something endearingly straightforward about Bloc’s shy hedonism; hiding behind a simple logo stamped on a garish red flyer, this was the very first weekender. Making no great claims to relevancy, immediacy, to being a festival, exploration or suchlike, nor being curated as a celebration of any one vein of electronic music in particular, Bloc is simply an opportunity for the punters to coalesce and celebrate. They were confronted with a line up of impressive depth and breadth, and while it was a superficially homogenous crowd of aging ravers and East Anglian crusties, it was refreshing to be transported to an external scene, spared the day-glow face paint now so ubiquitous in London, Edinburgh, Manchester, and every other city I’ve danced about in lately. Though the event had decided to sit heavily somewhere between techno and dubstep, the highlights were undoubtedly the live performances from old school heroes. As Newcleus morphed into AUX 88 and then Kool Keith, Friday night saw the parabolic development of a particularly American electronic sound, and in those three hours it was possible to watch hip hop crawling from the crackling swamp of early electro, and gazing towards its turbo-charged and slightly unhinged future, 2001, with synths instead of bones. On the other hand, Autechre, for whom there was a palpable buzz the whole weekend, brought a tangible chill to the proceedings. About thirty hours into the weekend, I stood to the side and watched a motionless crowd absorb those trapped beats and ponderous low-end murmurs, and wondered why they bothered. By that point everyone had been staggering about like sharks, moving to breathe, waiting for their second wind, and somehow, right when everyone was crying for entertainment, this intelligent vacuum had sucked it all away. They were not the only acts molested by the hand of dull; Mary Ann Hobbs played one of the most egregiously boring dubstep sets I’ve ever lacked the energy to walk away from, while Mrk 1 & Virus Syndicate were so much uninspired Brit rap posturing, which seemed bemusingly pathetic following Kool Keith. As Saturday night hammered ahead, you got the increasing sense that you weren’t going to witness anything revolutionary, that the weekend had already peaked the day before - Two Lone Swordsman, Kool Keith and TTC all having been so supremely fun. Luke Slater was impressive, plucking and twitching at a complicated array of sequencers to great effect, while Alex Smoke played a nice set, though perhaps a little early, preempting as he did a truly pedestrian offering from The Advent. The night proper ended with a pair of masterful performances, the first an uncompromising display of Detroit virtuosity from Rob Hood, followed by CJ Bolland. The heavyweight Belgian provided what was in my opinion the best hour of the evening, between five and six on Sunday morning, reaching several frenzied crescendos, the best of which, during ‘Erotic Discourse,’ drew many audible and thoroughly appropriate sighs of physical delight. It was engaging to watch this man, this toddler scaled up to the size of a gorilla, nodding his head metronomically throughout a set of high rhythmical complexity, as if there was really nothing to it at all. The next ineluctable frenzied high was dealt with so unassumingly that not for the first time was the crowd’s attention directed inwardly. The whole weekend in fact was so pleasantly free from DJ worship, there was never any real need to gaze towards whatever unlit area of the stage each in turn set up on. You could focus entirely on the often quite challenging music and get carried away dancing between the three enormous rooms. In the true spirit of ‘rave’ rather than ‘club’, this was about the punters and not the performers.

tags: | bloc weekend | more...

Freevolution

FREEVOLUTION FESTIVAL @ NEWCASTLE/GATESHEAD QUAYSIDE MAY 2007 A free festival is always going to be a bit mad. After all, if you get kicked out you’ve not lost anything, other than your dignity of course. Free entry means you can drink lots of beer, jump around and make a fool of yourself without the wallet-stinging ticket price. Bonus! So when the Freevolution festival pitched up on the Quayside of Newcastle and Gateshead on a drizzly Bank Holiday Monday, the north east celebrated it in true Geordie style. Lashings of Strongbow and plenty of noise! One stage stands next to the towering Baltic building in Gateshead, whilst the other is pitched towards Byker across the river Tyne, aptly named 'Innovation' and 'Invention'. The city is thriving and building on the success of last year's festival with bigger and more promising acts. As Soulwax, Simian Mobile Disco and Calvin Harris are scheduled to perform up by the famous Tyne Bridge, Newcastle's favourite sons Maximo Park head up a line up of fresh acts across the water. It was only a year ago that some of the headline acts performed at the ill-fated HiFi North festival only a few miles away from today's site. Billed as the first of an annual event to feed the festival starved north east with a indie rave feast of Global Gathering and Homelands style portions, HiFi was set to be the start of something big. But alas, the £52.50 ticket price may have been too much for Geordie revellers as the event was poorly attended, bands were axed from the line up last minute and 53 people were involved in drug related arrests. However, the next day Freevolution took place on the Quayside and proved to be a big success. HiFi North failed, whilst Freevolution excelled. Fast forward to this year and a crowd largely made up of teenagers and students are wandering from one site to another, stopping at the Quayside’s bars on their way. Rowdy gangs of emo kids shove each other annoyingly, lovesick teenagers awkwardly hold hands, chavs are jumping in front of people in the queues for the portaloos and beer boys nurse pints of lager and kids are sliding down the green banks on pieces of cardboard when the police aren’t looking. Over at the Byker site, guys with backpacks full of Strongbow are mobbed as they hand out free samples and kids shove their fake I.D's into their faces. Acts such as Bonde Do Role, Hot Club De Paris and The Enemy attract a good crowd, as do Datarock and To My Boy on the other stage. We head over to Baltic Square where Calvin Harris is starting up. He may think he’s bringing back disco, but all he’s providing to the Quayside is a soundtrack for the fights that break out amid the crowd. Kids are crowd surfing regardless of the concrete floor below, resulting in brawls that the audience seem to enjoy slightly more than the performance going on. Meanwhile, Harris is skipping between a keyboard and a mic as he runs through his debut album 'I Created Disco' like a poor man's Mylo. People stand still watching, some nodding for most of the time until 'Acceptable in the 80s' kicks up and everyone has a right good sing-a-long. Next up are Simian Mobile Disco. Although best known for James Ford's input in material from the Arctic Monkeys and Klaxons, their about-to-be-released album of clinky electro magic doesn't disappoint and warms everyone up nicely for Soulwax. 'It's The Beat' shines as a clear favourite, as the duo twiddle knobs on an important looking machine at the centre of the stage. We'd love to stay for Soulwax, but frankly, we're sick of them. They must have performed at every single event we've been to in the past year or so and although they’re awesome we make a move with the majority towards Newcastle for Maximo Park. It looks as if the majority of festival-goers have joined us, judging by the journey we have to undertake to worm our way towards the front. Being amongst the setting for both of the band's albums is exciting. The monument they stand near is only up the road. The coast that's always changing is only a few minutes away. The Transpennine rail service Paul and his love defaced pictures of famous people on runs from the local station. There couldn't be a better setting for a free Maximo Park gig. They're not short of material either, packing almost two albums worth of songs into the show as we excitedly bounce around the sweaty crowd with beer soaked hair. 'Our Velocity' revs up and everyone goes wild. "And I'll tell you some more about ME!" A bowler hat wearing frontman Paul Smith shouts. The audience are only too willing to listen. "Is anyone on a date tonight?" Bowler hat wearing frontman Paul Smith asks before launching into 'A Fortnights Time'. It may not be the most romantic setting, but its getting a hell of a lot of people wet. A second album that's shot them officially into one of the most 'in demand' bands in the country today means that Maximo Park may be packing up their kit and trading their Geordie twang for neutral tones. "And no… we haven't gone off to London!" Smith announces to ear-bleeding cheers. It's been a while since a band made the north east so proud, making the gig the ultimate bonding session. There's a glitch in the sound quality that lasts for half a song, but the crowd are forgiving. The five piece polish things off with the electrified 'Limassol', firmly embedding the tune in everyone’s heads for the rest of the night, despite the beats 2 Many DJs knocked out at the Digital afterparty. The Toon Army were out in force! Support the cause behind it: www.wateraid.org/uk/

tags: | freevolution | more...

Air Traffic

Air Traffic with support from The Sonic Hearts and Jacob Boulden @ Liverpool Academy 2 Saturday 30 June 2007 Four years ago a young saxophonist by the name of Abi Harding cut a demure and low-key figure on stage at Manchester’s Academy Three venue when The Zutons were at the first rung in the climb to recognition, playing second fiddle to The Thrills. Little more than six months later, she rose out of her shell providing the party inducing touch and carefree enthusiasm for the crowd to feed off in a live environment and her voice appeared on radio more times than Terry Wogan's. Well, four months ago in the Roadhouse in Manchester, as Liverpool troupe, The Sonic Hearts cut their teeth supporting Kubichek, flutist Kirsty Donaldson, looked as though she was figuring out what it was all about. Tonight, she shows that she has done this with natural ease and the band are about to release their first single on EMI ('Hold On', out on the 9/07/07). Orchestrating the crowd participation for most of their time on stage, most noticeably during the slow swaying, rumbling pop celebration of 'Hallelujah'. The refined Donaldson cuts a free spirited and confident figure, allowing the wild mopped front-man, Sean Francis Butler to concentrate on his 60's pop vocals and plugged-in acoustic guitar chugging. It is Donaldson’s deft fluting that steers the outfit away from the path well-trodden by The Zutons et al, well that, and a deeper lyrical pit that gives Butler the feeling to instil into his endearing, laboured and positively tinged vocal thrust. 'Crooked Hair' is a self-deprecatory, climbing pop swipe at his own mop and it gives The Sonic Hearts a Universal kick. This could easily see them be the band to get EMI out of the financial doldrums that they’re currently languishing in. Questions need to be raised about the suitability of the charming, LA homed acoustic conjurer, Jacob Golden's suitability at fitting in between two sprightly full bands, as a bit of momentum is lost. However, the material on display from Golden, who released his debut album 'Hallelujah World', through Rough Trade Records in 2002, is whining, foraging and emotion laden enough to set a change in tone, but doesn’t cause attention to wander too much. Naturally, frivolous crowd chatter gives the personal nature of the material a neat ambient touch, as he slots in between the heart-tugging range of Joanna Newsome and the acoustic cruising of Willy Mason. The slow building weepie of 'On A Saturday', taken from the US cult classic The OC receives an enthusiastic reception. Goulden's personal touch also wins him friends and implies that in his own shows he has the potential to be potent and captivating. There are no two sides to Air Traffic, their uncompromising keyboard bolstered debut album 'Fractured Life' bears this point out. Tonight, with little fuss, they kick off through the climbing keyboard intro to 'Just Abuse Me' that builds into a melee of sliding guitar-led indie and switches back again to embolden their genuine, range flitting craft. Vocalist Chris Wall and co. keep focused and bring their album foraging to the live setting. Wall cuts a stern and driven figure, as he sits in front of his keyboard sideways to the audience, glancing over approvingly at the bounding and pogoing taking place when numbers from the debut album are fired out with gritty belief. The winding Travis kicked 'Time Goes By', makes best use of the pronounced sound in this quaint venue where viewing opportunities are at a premium. The lurid and catchy indie dirge of 'Charlotte', shows a searing seedy side that inevitably wins vast approval on a Saturday night. Air Traffic don't do image and they don’t do pretence, yet their growing popularity is not in question tonight. Something that is surprising in this current climate, eh? Read our review of Air Traffic's 'Fractured Life' here. Words: Dave Adair

tags: | air traffic | more...

Knowsley Hall Music Festival

Knowsley Hall Music Festival

Feat. The Who, The Coral, The View, The Thrills, The Delta Fiasco Saturday 23 June 2007 Teething problems still happen at Glastonbury, so the grumbling and griping at the queues and stage time changes alterations continue. Being uttered during this, the debut of an event that gives the North West something to talk about is a little puzzling. Unlike many Festivals this year, there is a strong local flavour to this one. The organisers have really tried to give local acts a chance to shine and make this a distinctive occasion. Grabbing that opportunity with both guitars is the electro tinged local trio The Delta Fiasco. They woo the Myspace Stage with a contemplative and slightly troubled, slow building approach. Possessing the same moody reflection and uplifting jolts as modern upstarts The Pigeon Detectives, something that comes through in the vocals of the passionate Nathan Walczack. Those who beat the queues, appreciate the energetic aspects of forthcoming single ‘Paperhouse’ and several nods of approval implies that upon its release, The Delta Fiasco may have the music press in all of a flutter. Evergreen Liverpool outfit and perennial nearly-men, Shack provide the increasing crowd at the Main Stage with some skiffle skirting spirit and showcase their slightly eccentric lyrics, as material from an act that spans three decades provides a familiar if unspectacular touch. Singer Michael Head’s voice has worn well over the years and he battles early technical problems to help remind people of their quirky touch. A warm welcome greets the Irish outsiders of The Thrills, who despite a sun-drenched Californian sounding first album and yearning pop containing second album worth of material. Conor Deasy and co. choose to open out with a vision of their future in the pleading, yet positively projected, non-album offering ‘It’s All We’ve Got’. The big hitting pop pearl of ‘Big Sur’ sets off a crowd chorus and weather defying bounding starts to occur towards the front. A proper festival vibe is starting to filter in and the young indie kids look on with increasing anticipation. The scene is similar to the looks that will have greeted Oasis as they were carving a name out for themselves. Although, Dundee’s The View possesses the same uplifting hooks, pulsing drum-beats (provided with cock-sure craft by Steve Morrison) and cocky self-belief as Gallagher and co., their material is not quite as universal, yet. Deep Dundonian references puzzle even those seemingly in the know about them. The angular riffs and thrusting percussion of ‘Superstar Tradesman’ has a familiar, gritty push and catchy chorus, ensuring that gatherers get into it from the off. Despite being banned from every single Travel Lodge in the country for their rowdiness, the young pretenders are nothing but calm and amiable. The rugged and rhythmic anthem of ‘Same Jeans’, retains freshness in a live setting, despite its numerous airplay and the party spirit continues to climb, as though to stick two fingers up to the lingering black clouds. They have a reputation for quirkiness, fuelled by the spirit of The Beatles and an off-kilter tune-crafting touch. The prolific Wirral-ites, The Coral opt to stick mainly to the familiar singles including the heart-tugging ‘Pass It On’ and the spring-time, loved-out anthem of ‘Dreaming of You’ from their now vast back catalogue. For an ever forward looking outfit, the new numbers on display inclusive of the thrusting guitar-led ‘Who’s Gonna Find Me’, shows that a raw coat is slowly starting to cover their polished range. James Skelly and crew continue their low-key stage presence that has overtaken their frivolous bantering days, as they get into their quaint musical zone and stay there. No-one here seems to have a gripe with that approach. There were a few fears beforehand that the main attraction here tonight. Are The Who using this as a rehearsal for their Glastonbury closing performance the following day? Not a chance, as the lofty cry led ‘Can’t Explain’ is rolled out with their customary belief and tightness in delivery. Material as far back as the early 1970’s is aired with pride; ‘Won’t Get Fooled Again’ still captures the sense of bemusement felt towards ignorant leaders by a generation. Nothing changes, eh? However, it is not often that people will leave a The Who performance with a sour taste in their mouths, but news seeps through about the paramedics rushing to the aid of spectator John Astey, who later died. Organisers should be patting themselves on the back for having commenced - with a few inevitable glitches - an event that could be the focus of the North West’s musical calendar in years to come. No doubt, they too will have been saddened by this tragic occurrence. Words: Dave Adair Photography (above): Mark McNulty

tags: | same jeans | more...

Stephen Fretwell @ Manchester

Stephen Fretwell @ Manchester

STEPHEN FRETWELL WITH SUPPORT FROM LIAM FRAY @ DANCEHOUSE THEATRE, MANCHESTER WEDNESDAY 23 MAY 2007 A compact setting that has the artist penned in like a baboon in a zoo pen and a stuffy, sound stifling atmosphere would send many a personal acoustic performer, back to the dressing room with their guitar between their legs. Not Liam Fray, who cuts a figure like Noel Gallagher waiting at a bus stop, he opts to take it all in his stride and ambles into a parade of erstwhile and stirring, but bracing simplicity. The meandering Mancunian blends urbane northern poetry and a Willy Mason moulding into Findlay Brown tinged vocal approach. Rugged, low-key street philosophy comes off with endearing grit and stern belief in highlight stroll, ‘Not One Could I Give’. Something that will go down well when Fray graces Glastonbury this year, as will the dry humour that keeps the interest ticking over between songs. A laboured, almost spoken Joe Carnall (Milburn) kick, draws the heart out in numbers towards the end. Complementing the earthy nature of the material on display, enabling Fray to walk away and move forward to a reputation enhancing trip to Somerset. The air is filled with a soul-stroking, heart tugging piece that stretches sorrowfulness to the edge, ‘San Francisco Blues’ and the momentum incrementally develops into the trickling turn of ‘The Ground Beneath Your Feet’. These fresh snippets show the life-bearing Manchester based, Stephen Fretwell continuing to mould his thought provoking material, as he gets ready to move on from the renowned, sour pop punch given by ‘Magpie’ several years back. Such was the publicity and momentum gained by this album that following it up is a thankless task. Reviewers’ row in the auditorium sits wide-eyed hacks, like vultures waiting to swoop in on the merest slip and feed on another fleshy carcass fattened by the success of one album. To combat this unsavoury threat, what on earth do you do? Well, you could stick to the blue print of your successful past and add a few cranked up guitar pitches and change the name of the girl you’re singing about? This isn’t the Fretwell way; he chooses open out his philosophical soul, armed with only an acoustic guitar and proceeds to re-invent his old material. This, he blends in with even more personal and biting latest offerings, choosing to do so in a personal setting that soon has a friendly air, provided by a laid-back stage presence and cheeky crowd banter. ‘Run’ is stripped of its once masterful, sprightly pop cloak, as the lyrics are delivered with greater projection from a softer, less playful base to trigger thoughts of Rufus Wainwright without the pomposity. ‘What’s That You Say Little Girl’ pumps up the blues into its lullaby foundation. Both of these are more than worthy for re-release in their re-jigged form. Thanks to a plea from a journalist earlier on in the day, ‘Emily’ avoids the cull from the live setting and the warmth with which it is received implies that it may not be a temporary reprieve, either. An extra guitar by virtue of Fretwell’s old friend John, gives ‘Darling Don’t’ the necessary extra strand to add a slight noire element. For those who believe that this earnest performer’s piano prowess is too often ignored, the rejuvenating ‘Coney’ captures that Duke Special frivolity. It is certainly going to provide the warmth, heart and a playful spring to the forthcoming second album. The banjo decorated ‘Scar’ shows a retro touch and adds to the growing life imbued by Fretwell. A performance of heart, soul, reflection and cutting cogency is delivered with a pleasing, genuine touch. "This performance illuminates the point that invention is great, but re-invention is so much better." www.myspace.com/liamfray www.stephenfretwell.com Words: Dave Adair Photography: Sarah Pooley

tags: | stephen fretwell | more...

Kosheen @ Manchester Academy 3

Kosheen @ Manchester Academy 3

KOSHEEN WITH SUPPORT FROM THE VINCENT BLACK SHADOW @ MANCHESTER ACADEMY 3 MONDAY 7 MAY 2007: Early on, the Gwen Stefani and Gweno Saunders blending pitch of Cassandra Ford soars out, the sound system holds up and makes the show-time pop pearl 'Metro', come to life. The Vincent Black Shadow have an added keyboard kick tonight, promoting the live pang and complements the vocals of the decadent Ford to a tee. Flashy pop with soul entertains a keen gathering and extra pounce is provided by the jazzy drum-beats. The spiralling rock n' roll of 'Control' brings memories of the energy and thrust of The Bellrays to the fore and Ford gets all cocky and feisty. Title track from forthcoming debut album 'Fear's In The Water', builds upon a bass buzz and the hurried vocals gives the finale urgency and a haunting touch. The Vincent Black Shadow packs more moods into half an hour than Coronation Street. All this fuss about touts on eBay, there is one solid way to avoid it. That is too possess such a live buzz and reputation for bringing power, the party spirit and variety to life at gigs that nobody would want to part with a ticket for your show. Granted, this option isn’t open to a great deal of bands, but for Kosheen it is a tactic that has been ingeniously deployed, keeping eBayers at bay for this performance. Through the sauntering vibe of new offering 'Damage', some early buzz is created. A swirling beat/bassline mix is just enough to create a bit of life, but the lyrics also make you intrigued enough to want to have several listens to it, when the album that it’s on is finally released over here, that is. 'Overkill', with its rumbling pop beats and the lingering vocals of the lively spirited Sian Evans, sprinkles some soaring heart and soul over proceedings, showing that freshness and Kosheen are still happy bedfellows. Despite proudly looking forward a nostalgic drum n bass interlude sends hands aloft as though they are waving a heroine goodbye. Evans and co. coaxes the crowd into sharing their renewed enthusiasm as the commanding welsh vocalist is keenly accompanied for the buoyant run through of 'Catch You'. This has extra spice and catchy bite in such close knit surroundings, with this impact also being epitomised by 'Hide U'. The latter parade hovering oomph, represents Evans' most commanding and emotively potent vocal display of the evening. 'Guilty' provides a vibrant pop strut and sets out with friendly energy what true pop music is all about. Despite retuning in ruptures after being locked out of their dressing room before the encore, Evans gives the boom funk of 'Wish', extra projection, it seems. Dancing as nimbly as a ballerina at times, completing an electrifying hour of inhibition releasing. www.myspace.com/tvbs http://www.kosheen.com/ Words: Dave Adair

tags: | kosheen | more...

Bloc Party @ London Astoria

Bloc Party @ London Astoria

WEDNESDAY 31 JANUARY: Admittedly, years of gig going can make you somewhat cynical. Tickets to see the first of three sold out nights at the Astoria by Bloc Party can be met with an apathy that the musical Gods on Mount Olympus will no doubt punish me for at a later date. Still, they’d probably forgive me if they were going to the gig with the same person as me. She keeps yelping and jumping spontaneously on our journey to the venue which is never a healthy thing to see in a grown woman. How can a band this serious inspire such face-splitting grinning on her part? There’s no accounting for taste I suppose. Still, such boundless enthusiasm can be a bit wearing, so when she suggests heading downstairs and getting involved, I decline and head to the balcony to watch the show. I leave Grandpa on the balcony with a pint to frown into so that I can throw myself about with the heads upfront. Even Kele himself is beaming tonight, meekly thanking us for making it down and sealing every line he sings with a grin. A soaring rendition of 'This Modern Love' slows the mosh for a minute or four; the frenetic guitar work of 'Helicopter,' gives us groundlings the sweating, stamping action we're craving. Bassist Gordon steps up to showcase his drumming skills on a kit alongside Matt Tong's, and fresh track 'Waiting For The 7.18' has jungle tinged rhythms that the band pull off with flair. The new LP isn't out yet but several fans recite Kele's most recent lyrics in earnest - the love is all around. OK, I admit it, she was right. From the primordial pounding bedlam of 'The Prayer' to the mocking urban despair of 'Song For Clay,' this is a band who are laying claim to 2007 and will take it by whatever means necessary. The Astoria hasn't seen chaos on this scale for a long time, and it should mark the beginning of Bloc Party's rise to dominance. TEXT: KARL O'KEEFFE & LUCY WILSON

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